


Spinning a Solid White Light

by Electric_Apple



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electric_Apple/pseuds/Electric_Apple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It turns out that the black eyes is the first of many injuries – both real and imagined – she incurs now she’s mobile.  “Got bump!  Daddy kiss bedder!” is a constant refrain in the house."</p><p>Sarah learns to walk.  Steve learns what matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spinning a Solid White Light

Sometimes, Steve thinks he’s getting the hang of this fatherhood thing. Getting good at it, even.  Like today, for instance: he’s home early enough from work to spend a solid few hours with his daughter.  Leah found time during Sarah’s afternoon nap to make up a truly inspirational Italian salad, so all he has to do is throw some chicken on the grill and dinner’s sorted (he loves his babysitter).  It’s raining outside, the kind of brief afternoon shower he finds strangely energising.  Sarah’s in a great mood, standing and balancing herself against the edge of the couch as she stacks a set of blocks carefully on one cushion before unstacking them and reassembling them on the other cushion.

She’s having so much with fun with it that he’s retrieved his phone from his pocket and is quietly recording her.  She babbles softly to herself as she plays; Steve can pick out the odd word but most of it is a mystery to him.

There’s a dull thud against the carpet as one of the blocks tumbles to the floor.  Sarah frowns and he’s about to lean forward and push it back to her when she takes a tentative step towards it, hand clutching at the couch to steady herself.  She takes another step, and realises that she’s going to have to let go if she wants the block.  He can see the indecision warring on her face.  Then she makes up her mind, pulls her hand away, and takes one-two-three toddling, lurching steps forward –

 - and holy _shit_ , his baby girl is walking!

Except maybe he hasn’t got the hang of this fatherhood thing after all, because he whoops triumphantly and Sarah startles, turning towards him, but she can’t maintain her momentum and the change in balance and she falls, clipping her head on the edge of the coffee table on the way down.

Her scream is immediate, heart-rending, and _loud_. 

Steve drops the phone and scoops her up, inspecting her hurriedly.  There’s a deep red mark under her right eye and some fucking father he is because Danny’s been telling him for weeks now to put those soft corners on the edges of the coffee table but it just didn’t look _dangerous_ to him so he didn’t bother.

He cuddles Sarah close.  “Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he croons softly.  “Just a bump, Sammie.  Just a little bump.”  A muscle-memory surfaces and he leans down to place a gentle kiss on the mark below her eye.  “There; Daddy kissed it better.”

“Kiss bedder,” she repeats, sobbing, so he kisses her again and she takes a few shuddering breaths and cuddles into him.  He pats her back and rocks her gently and presses a few more kisses onto the top of her head, just for good measure.

It’s after dinner when he realises that along with Sarah’s first steps, he’s managed to catch her first fall and her first black eye on camera too.  He edits out the latter two incidents before emailing it to Catherine’s parents.

 

*    *    *

It turns out that the black eyes is the first of many injuries – both real and imagined – she incurs now she’s mobile.  “Got bump!  Daddy kiss bedder!” is a constant refrain in the house.

She trips on the driveway and grazes both palms.  Steve picks her up, assures her it’s just a bump, and kisses the small red marks on her hands.

She falls on the kitchen floor while she’s playing.  “Just a bump,” Steve says, though he’s quite sure it will bruise, and kisses the offered knee.

She tumbles off the couch during an unplanned afternoon nap, scaring herself awake.  Steve sits her in his lap and kisses her round little tummy when she lifts her shirt and explains through her tears that she bumped it.

She gets shampoo on her eyes during an evening bath (not his fault; she wriggles like an eel and is almost as slippery, and he’s _told_ her countless times now to _sit still_ ).  “Daddy kiss bedder!” she howls, squirming away from the plastic jug he’s trying to use to rinse her eyes out.  “No water!  Kiss bedder!”  She raises her face to him and he hides a smile as he bends down to kiss her forehead; it’s no-tears baby shampoo and she’s washed the best part out already with her crying, but she’s still convinced it’s the power of his kiss that stops the stinging.  “Fanks, Daddy,” she hiccups, and sits back down in the bath.

Steve isn’t her only target, either.  She goes face-first into the sand at the beach.  She’s not hurt at all but she still whimpers and demands that Steve “kiss bedder”.  She frowns, inspecting her hands, then holds them out to Danny.  “Danno kiss bedder,” she instructs and Danny squats down and kisses her fingers obediently.  She scampers off then, satisfied.  “She’s got you read,” Steve observes and laughs when Danny shoves him.  “She’s got me read?  Did I not see you, too, kiss an invisible boo-boo better?  Because I’m certain I did, my friend - ”

*    *    *

It’s been one of _those_ evenings.  It was a bastard of a day at work and he and Danny both have the bruises to show for it.  He aches all over; the simple task of getting Sarah out of her bath takes an effort he’s not quite sure he has and when she slips away before he can get the towel around her, scampering bare-assed down the hall to her room with a cheeky grin on her race, he seriously considers _not_ following her. 

There’s the predictable _thud_ in the hallway as she loses her balance and trips, and he holds his breath waiting for the inevitable howl, but to his surprise the pattering of her footsteps recommences after a few moments.  “Daddy!” she calls, and he hauls himself upright to follow her.

He carries her back downstairs and releases her to go play for a while.

He has - quick check of his watch - less than hour before Danny will be over, Sarah will be in bed and he and Danny can kick back with a beer and lick their respective wounds in peace.

Normally these things aren’t up for negotiation but he cuts her a deal; she can play for fifteen more minutes, then it’s time for a story, then bed.  She can’t tell the time and has no concept of fifteen minutes, but she does know that it’s a rare night indeed when she’s allowed up past her bedtime.  It’s a mutually beneficial deal; Steve figures it will take him about that long to drag his sorry ass upstairs and find the story anyway.

Sarah packs up her cars without complaint when Steve comes back down stairs with the story.  He warms some milk and fills her sippy cup; a few minutes later, she’s settled contentedly in his lap, drinking steadily as he opens the book to the first page.

They’re about mid-way through their second book of the night when the front door swings open and Steve has less than half a second to set Sarah down before she somersaults from his lap.  “Danno!” she cries happily.  “DannoDannoDanno!” 

Danny deposits a six pack of beer and a bag of Chinese takeout on the coffee table, then bends down to scoop the baby up into his arms.  “Hey there, Kitten.  What are you doing out of bed at this time of night, hey?”

“No bed,” Sarah tells him, squirming in his arms.  “Story.  Got milk.”  She presents her milky face to him for verification and he laughs, bending to kiss her nose.  She stops him, though, catching his face between both little hands and frowning.  “Danno got bump,” she says worriedly.

In fact it’s not the worst of the bruises and cuts incurred over the course of the day – he’s never been so thankful that the majority of both of their injuries are concealed beneath clothes – but it looks bad enough to Sarah, who’s patting Danny’s cheek gently as she stares at the scab on his mouth.

“Danno got bump,” she repeats.  “Sawah kiss bedder,” she says, and reaches up to kiss the wound.  It must sting, but Danny doesn’t make a sound, just hugs the baby to him and thanks her gravely.

Sarah squirms around in his arms til she can see Steve.  “Danno got bump,” she tells him.  “Daddy kiss bedder.”

Huh.  Steve was not expecting _that_.  But she looks so earnest – so distressed at the injury to her Danno, so sure that he can kiss away the hurt – and he doesn’t want to disappoint her, is selfish enough to want to keep her blind faith in him alive just a little bit longer.  Besides, it’s _Danny_ , and Steve likes seeing him hurt even less than Sarah does.  So he stands and he moves towards them and he’s not quite sure what he’s going to do, exactly, but Sarah is watching him expectantly and Danny has not said a word. 

“Just a bump, Danno,” he says, and his voice his heavy with something he can’t quite understand, yet the same thing is in Danny’s voice when he answers and Steve thrills to it. “Doesn’t really hurt.”

Sarah grabs at Steve’s t-shirt and tugs.  “Kiss _bedder_ ,” she insists, close to tears, and oh, fuck it.  He reaches over and presses his lips against Danny’s.

It’s not a kiss, not really, but it’s not _not_ a kiss either.  Danny’s split lip is rough beneath his own and Danny makes a small sound in the back of his throat and opens his mouth to Steve and then it _is_ a kiss, Sarah wriggling between them, Danny’s arms around the baby and Steve’s arms coming around Danny of their own accord and Steve is so _fucked_ because this, right here?  This is _everything_.

Then Sarah  pipes up “Danno bedder?” in such a small, hopeful voice that they burst out laughing simultaneously.  Sarah stares at them, wide-eyed, and sometime soon Steve will have to work out what this means for her as well as for him, but for now Danny kisses the top of her head and assures her that yes, he feels much better now, and passes her to Steve so he can deal with the beer and takeout.

And okay, yeah, Steve knows he’s never going to be father of the year material, not when he does stuff like _kiss his partner_ for the first time with the baby held between them, but this is one of those moments when he figures he’s not doing so bad after all.

The soft smile on Danny’s face as he begins to unload the takeout onto the kitchen table confirms it.

 


End file.
